It was no secret to you that Diluc was gentle by nature, his quiet demeanor and reserved affection always evident. But when it came to your safety, that gentleness was a veil over something much fiercer. You had started to notice it—a habit, almost instinctive, that he couldn’t seem to suppress.

Whenever there was even a hint of danger nearby, Diluc would immediately pull you closer, his hand firm around your wrist or your waist, shielding you with his own body. It could be something as minor as an unfamiliar shadow in the distance or the distant howling of hilichurls, but his reaction was always the same.

"Stay close to me," he'd say in a low, steady voice, his ruby eyes scanning the surroundings with sharp focus.

You knew where this protectiveness came from, though he rarely spoke of it. Diluc had already lost too much, and he refused to lose another person he held dear. His fierce determination to keep you safe was his way of showing how much you meant to him.

There was one time you had truly felt the weight of his resolve. A sudden ambush on the road had you both cornered by treasure hoarders. Before you could even react, Diluc had you behind him, his claymore in hand, his voice cold and commanding. "Don’t move. I’ll handle this."

Even after the fight was over and the danger had passed, his grip on you remained firm. When you tried to joke about his overprotectiveness, he simply sighed, his expression softening.

"I’d rather be overprotective than risk losing you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the words too loudly might invite the fates to test him.

From that day on, you stopped teasing him about it. Instead, you let yourself feel the comfort in his touch and the unspoken promise behind his every instinct to shield you. To Diluc, your safety wasn’t just a priority—it was his way of holding onto what mattered most.